Arya's revenge
by Ferz
Summary: Four years have passed since the end of A dance with dragons. Arya has learned all she could from the House of Black and White but could never forget who she was. Now she goes back to Westeros to avenge all she has lost, and maybe to start again.
1. Disclaimer

**This is a translation of my fic, La vengeance d'Arya, from french to english.**

It's going to be about 25 chapters, and I will publish a chapter every week until it's finished. I tend to write chapters of about 2000/3000 words. I have already written 15 chapters, but only translated one to english.

Disclaimer : Sadly I don't own any rights to A song of Ice and Fire, nor do I own the characters or the story. On the other hand I do own my story ^^

If you want to translate this fic (obviously not to french), please contact me by private message first !

Bonne lecture !

Ferz


	2. 1 The crossing

**Here is my first chapter. This is a translation of my fic La vengeance d'Arya, in french. French is my first language, so I hope you can excuse the mistakes I will certainly make translating it and correct me if needed.**

**Enjoy reading**

**Chapter 1 : The crossing**

When it happened, it was not a real surprise. Arya had expected it. She didn't know, exactly, how much time she had spent in the House of Black and White, but she knew she had learned all she could. Her sight had been taken, and she had learnt to see without it. Her hearing was taken and she had learned to hear without it. Her voice was taken, and she had learned to speak without it. Her touch was taken and she had learned to touch without it. She knew how to kill, how to burn, how to poison, how to behead and how to stage accidents which no one would ever suspect.

But she had never managed to learn not to be Arya Stark. Never had she managed to throw Needle away, the sword once given to her by her bastard brother Jon Snow. And never ever had she stopped to whisper, in the dead of night, the names of the people she wanted to kill. Even mute her lips had formed the words her voice could not carry.

They were all here, all 24 of them, the Faceless Men, watching her. She knew one of them was the man she had met by the name of Jaquen Ha'Quar, so many years ago, but she couldn't say which one he was. He could be the little old man standing in the back or the beautiful young woman sitting on the stone bench.

It did not matter.

- Novice, you have gone through all the steps, but the Many-faced God has not called upon you to serve as a Faceless Man.

Arya didn't answer. It was the truth and there was nothing for her to say. She didn't know if they intended to offer her the Gift, but if they were trying to resist wouln't be of any help, not in a room with 24 Faceless Men.

- It is rare, but the God who is All the Gods sometimes calls to His House some, like you, who must learn His arts but mut not become His servants. Arya Stark, you will not be a Faceless Man, because our God has need of you elsewhere. You will always be a disciple of the House of the Many-Faced God, and you will always have a place in the House of Black and White. Maybe one day, when Arya Stark's mission is completed, will you become a Servant of the Many-Faced God. But today you must leave the House of Black and White to go on the mission our God gave you.

- What mission ? Arya asked, trying to understand. What mission did she have to complete ?

- Only you know it, Arya Stark, Disciple of the House of the Dead God.

And Arya understood, in a flash. She had survived her training without stopping to be Arya Stark, and that meant that the Many-Faced God wanted her to be Arya Stark, or He would have taken her. She would offer the Gift to those Arya Stark wanted dead.

An hour later Arya was standing outside the House, carrying everything she owned on herself. Going through the doors of the House knowing that she might never come back made her feel slightly nostalgic. She wasn't a novice anymore, the time for learning had ended. She had been deemed ready.

She hesitated. What would she do, now ? For three years she had lived a life of obedience at the beck and call of her masters, obeying them, killing for them. And now she was free. Well, she was much more prepared than she had been so many years ago when she had fled Kings Landing. But she had no idea what she would do now. She needed to think. She decided to take the rest of the day to do it. She obtained some funds out of inattentive passersby's pouches and took a room for the night in a small inn.

She knew as well as anyone in Braavos the current political situation in the Seven Kingdoms. Tommen sat on the Iron Throne and the Mother of Dragons was in Dorne. Sansa, if she understood correctly, had married Tyrion Lannister, was suspected of murdering Joffrey and had fled somewhere, or might be dead.

Besides her sister, if she was still alive, there was her brother, the only one she had left if the news of Bran and Rickon's deaths were true. Jon was on the Wall, and couldn't do anything for her except giving her a new place to hide. She had loved Jon more than any of her other siblings, but he couldn't help her in her mission.

No, the first thing she had to do was know who she had to kil.

She had to avenge her father's death.

She had to avenge he mother's death.

She had to avenge her brothers' deaths.

She hoped she didn't have to avenge Sansa's death as well.

Her father's death was clear. Joffrey Baratheon had ordered his execution and Cersei Lannister, her Regent at the time, had stood there watching without interfering. If Joffrey was really dead, which she didn't truly doubt, she would only have Cersei to whom she had to offer the Gift to. It would have to suffice.

Theon was responsible for Winterfell's demise, and if he was still alive she would offer him the Gift without blinking twice.

That left Robb and her mother, and she didn't know much of the Red Wedding. She knew that some of her Father's men had betrayed him. Walder Frey had organized the massacre, but he had probably been supported by someone, probably the Lannisters, the only ones able to offer sufficient guaranties. But she was sure of nothing. She fell asleep on that thought.

The grey sun piercing through the window woke her up the next morning. Her room was not luxurious, but she had lost consideration for such things long ago. She hadn't taken her clothes off the day before, but a bowl of water was placed on a desk and she washed herself. She hadn't cut her hair for more than two years and they fell on her shoulders. She pulled them up to put on the wig she had taken from the House of Black and White. She wasn't a woman yet and her breasts were barely visible. She would have no trouble posing as a man, or boy as it was.

Arya went down the woden staircase of the inn, counting the stairs without even noticing she was doing it. She had done it the day before when going up. A nice smell came from the kitchen and she decided to eat there while she could. You could never know when your next meal would come.

The inn's matron, a 40 years old woman looking at her with a benevolent smile came to ask her if she wanted some porridge, eggs and bacon and Arya nodded. She placed some coins on the table while waiting for the woman to come back with her food. She gave a nice tip, seeing as she could get more money easily enough.

The food, while not perfect, was filling and she ate happily enough. Once she was finished she went to the docks. Even with the war going on in the Seven Kingdoms Braavos was still a major port, and boats left for Westeros every day. Arya finally found the one she was looking for and went to speak with the captain of "The Cold Lady". He asked her for three Silver Stags to cross and she payed him. It was a bit to expensive for a hammock in a simple crossing of the Narrow See but one had to expect the prices raising in these tormented times.

Autumn was upon Westeros now, and cold winds announcing Winter blew. But the gusts of wind had nothing of the Winter storms out of which no boat or man survived. They just happened to speed the crossing, at least in this direction. Arya could, less than a week later, see the coast of her homeland. The Cold Lady accosted at Coldwater, as planned. It was a smallish town of the Vale of Arryn and the captain would not sell much of his cargo there. He would keep going along the coast to the South until he had sold everything on his ship and bought new cargo to take back to Braavos. Arya stopped here. She had no one to say farewell to amongst the men on the ship, having stayed apart from them on the journey, so she left immediately after the ship had stopped. Her own journey had just begun.

**I hope you enjoyed this first chapter. I will try to publish one chapter every week. I have already written 15 of them in french but this one is the only one I have translated as of yet. Don't forget to press the Review button ^^ **

**Ferz**


	3. 2 Journey

**Hi ! Sorry for the wait guys, I was travelling and didn't have my computer or the internet (and I survived, which amazed even me – funny thing though my family thought something had happened to me because I didn't respond to them on facebook or facetime, since I was in another country and didn't have reception on my phone or internet, and they even contacted my friends to make sure I hadn't died or something. One of them sent me a text on a local phone number and I had to buy an internet international connexion to contact my parents TT. And I was just gone for seven days at the time… XP)**

**But, enough with my life story.**

**I hope you enjoy this chapter.**

**Ferz**

**Chapter 2: Journey**

The marketplace was full of people, merchants and street vendors calling for attention, sailors going about their business, townspeople shopping. Arya decided to first look for a good horse on which she could go quickly to the Twins. She would have to travel along the coast to the west for a week first. Once in the Neck she would just have to keep going in the same direction for two days and she would be there. She needed a horse capable of bearing such a long journey, but it also needed to be calm enough to walk on the rough path of the first week without tripping every other second. The Vale was a dangerous region, with mountains and cliffs and unstable grounds. After some time she found a steady mare with good footing. Her temper was a bit quicker than Arya would have liked, but she would have to do. Arya paid the fifteen silver stags the merchant asked for the horse. It was a somewhat low price for such a horse but, when Arya mentioned it thinking that there might be something wrong with the mare that she didn't see, the merchant raised his eyebrows. "More horses than men left, these days, with all them lordly Sers killing each other for a king or 'nother. 'f ya want ta pay more, boy, your welcome to it." Arya just shrugged, paid and left with her new horse.

Instead of going on with her shopping Arya went to a tavern, the only one in the city, apparently. It was a stone building of modest appearance. When she entered she was happy to find a strong fire warming the men inside. Three groups were discussing the situation in the North loudly. One man assured the others that the Lord of the Vale, when he became a man, would be able to rule Winterfell since he was Starks' cousin. Another was sure that that couldn't happen since he was only their maternal cousin, and so couldn't take the North. A third answered that from what he saw it was the man with the bigger army who had the bigger claim. Lots of people seemed to disagree, or at least disagree with the concept if not with the reality of it, saying that the right to rule was not only a question for swords. The northern Lords would not submit to a southern Lord, whoever he was.

- Maybe he could marry a Stark girl, ya Lord, Arya said, taking a dornish accent.

- The Starks are all dead, boy, answered someone with a derisive grunt.

- Really? I was in Sunspear. Arya Stark is the Prince's prisoner. He want to wed her with his son, take the North for Himself.

- And how do you know that, boy? The Prince's confidante, are ya? Some people laughed, but more wanted to hear Arya's answer.

- No, 'am not, but my cousin serves in the castle, and she says she brings meals to a lady locked in a tower, a girl of four and ten with black hair. She isn't allowed to talk to her and she can't read, but the girl talks with a northern accent, and my cousin heard guards calling her "Lady Arya".

In the tavern everyone was silent, then a woman spoke.

- 't's true no one knows what happened to the Stark girl.

- Maybe she's 'live, the northern Lords believed him when Lord Bolton faked her capture and tried to marry the girl…

- And I heard that the Viper of Dorne was in King's Landing before the girl escaped. Might be he took her, said another.

Arya left before hearing anything else. In the eye of a crowd one who said a few words and stayed a mystery seemed more believable than one who expanded on thousands of "proofs".

For the next hour Arya bought food for her journey. She didn't intend to stop too frequently or too long to hunt, it would slow her travels too much. She had money as long as there were people to steal from. When she had enough dried meat, bred, cheese and dried fruits she left the city.

The first day or so of the journey was straight on something that could be, with a bit of stretched imagination, called a road. She pushed her mare enough to go quickly but not enough to tire her too much. She did not intend to loose time because she had to wait for her horse to get better. At midday Arya stopped near a small stream and filled three gourds with clean water. She didn't know these lands except from maps and her teachings from the House of Black and White. Faceless Men where supposed to be able to find someone wherever he was in the known parts of the world, and so she had learned the landscape surrounding every free city and the ones in Westeros too. But that didn't mean that she could know whether she would find another clean source of water soon. She had also learned to be careful. After she ate some of her meat, bred and cheese she left the stream, watching as the landscape became rougher and rougher. She passed some fishermen hamlets where children with large eyes watched her go. The next day she crossed a somewhat bigger one, which could almost be called a village, with a tavern and stopped there to eat. The common room was dark but a nice smell came from the kitchen and Arya sat down at one of the tables.

- What can I bring you, my boy? The matron asked, coming to her with a smile on her roundish face. Arya smiled back and asked for the day's meal and some ale. There were no other clients and, seeing as the woman seemed of the gossiping kind, Arya had no trouble starting a conversation.

- 'am going to me uncle, a few days west from here, Arya answered when the woman asked her what she was doing on the road, alone. He needs an apprentice, he's master carpenter, ya know, 'nd me da' s enough mouths to feed with me three brothers and me two sisters in Storm's End. With Winter coming, ya know.

The matron nodded sternly, as would anyone when winter was mentioned so close to its start, but she smiled at her.

- Storm's End. Never been out the Vale meself, but I have a nephew in the Stormlands. One of my sister's sons. Must have a family of his own, now. So, what news from the South?

Arya finished her piece of bread.

- Weather ain't so bad yet south of King's Landing. T's why I travel now. Since King Robert's brothers' death the Stormlands are ruled directly by the crown and the taxes have been raised to send men in the South. Before I left they said Arya Stark had finally agreed to marry Lord Lannister.

- Arya Stark? I thought she was dead.

- Really? No, she was hidden by the Queen and sent to Storm's End after Stannis' death. Wants to marry her to Lucan Lannister. He rules Storm's End for the Crown.

- But… why ?

- So that the Lannister can become Lords of the North, I guess, answered Arya, shrugging as if it didn't matter to her one way or another.

Arya finished her meal making small talk with the woman then left, paying exactly the price asked for. A boy travelling to become an apprentice didn't have enough money to distribute it without thinking, and the matron knew that. It didn't matter that Arya Stark had enough money. She was never in this tavern.

When she left Arya's eyes fell on some young boys playing in the dirt beside the road. Watching them she couldn't stop thinking that most of them would not survive the approaching Winter.

…

She was running, her nose on the ground, smelling and tracking her pray with her pack. The smell of the woods was filling her and she couldn't stop running. Never. Another part of her pack scared the stag towards them and suddenly her teeth were biting the tender skin and the stag's blood filled her mouth.

Arya woke up. Her wolfdreams had never stopped but for the first time she noticed how feeble they had become in her years in Braavos. Now she could still taste the blood, warming her throat, the smell of her pack all around her. Three years ago Arya thought these were just dreams, expressing her longing for freedom. Now she knew it wasn't the case. She had trained her warg talent. Never, since Nymeria, had she become so linked with another animal, but she was a warg and she had learned to become other animals around her. She couldn't know if there was another warg amongst the Faceless Men, but there had to have been some before. The Kindly man and the Waif, as she had named them in her head, had been able to train her gift.

Nymeria was alive, she had always known that. But the dream she had just had, so clear, meant something else: her she wolf was close.

But Arya couldn't tell exactly where, and she had no hope of finding her by herself in these lands, in the immense forests of the Neck. She had long since outgrown the lies one tells oneself. If Nymeria didn't find her, assuming she wanted to, Arya didn't have a chance.

She had been riding for three hours that morning when she noticed she was followed. She was almost at the Twins, she had crossed the King's Road the day before and expected to arrive in one or two days.

The men observing her could be bandits, thieves or routed soldiers, she had seen all three kinds the days before in groups of two or three, hiding in the woods. It didn't really make a difference if they were one or the other. If they left her alone she wouldn't do anything. If they attacked they would die. She wasn't worried, not because she thought she couldn't die, but because dying didn't worry her. When you lived in the House of Black and White dying became a simple reality. It felt like the fear of dark as a child. Once you outgrew it you couldn't really remember what you were afraid of in the first place.

As the road turned under her mare's hooves, the ambushed men came on her. Twenty men faced her now, plus about ten at her back. They were dirty, badly shaved and blocked her way on all sides.

- Hey, traveller, a large bearded man said. What are ya doing all alone on this bad road ? Hey, little man? The voice was mocking; the man didn't doubt for a second that he was in control.

Arya was four and ten, and if she had been a boy she would be almost a man grown. But her feminine frame made her appear younger than a boy her own age, perhaps two and ten when she posed as a boy.

- I am a singer from Braavos, Arya said, borrowing the Braavosi accent she had learned to mimic perfectly long since. I go from village to village to sell my songs.

If she was lucky the bandits would translate "singer" to "popper" and let her go.

Sadly she understood quickly that that wouldn't happen. She had a horse, and that simple fact could mean she had money these days. Plus they could always use or eat the horse. She saw the instant the leader of the group, the one who had spoken before, decided to attack.

She killed three of the men before they could notice anything amiss, and the fourth before her feet had touched the ground. She could fight on her horse, of course, but against 30 men she had a lot more chance to survive on foot.

The four corpses, poisoned by the darts she had sent, hadn't had time to touch the ground when the others attacked. In a flowing motion Arya had a dagger in each hand. Her sword would have impaired her more than helped with so many enemies. A man died from a perfectly placed wound on his neck, cutting his jugular artery and leaving him to die of blood loss in seconds.

She blocked a sword on her right while nicking a man on his left cheek. The poison on her blade would take care of him – definitively.

She jumped from the trajectory of a sword which crashed into the skull of the man behind her, whom she avenged by killing swiftly the idiot who had just slayed his own ally. She used the poor balance of another to make him fall on two others, all three immediately trampled on by their friends.

She jumped, she turned, she blocked swords and killed men. She counted in her head, about fifteen down, another fifteen to go, and she was already tiring. Her training had been extensive, but it had never been based on fighting so many opponents at the same time.

She blocked another sword but missed the knife of an almost dead man already half on the ground, swearing when it caught the skin on her arm. The pain would impair her movements until she could tend to the wound, and she wouldn't be able to do that until all men were dead.

She poisoned a man and her left blade reached the beating heart of another.

But there were too many of them, even with all her skills, she was alone against 30 men obviously trained in combat. She was tiring but her new opponents were just throwing their first blows.

She jumped to the right, avoiding a longsword, but was too slow and the blade tore through her left shoulder, biting her flesh. She cried in pain, falling on the ground for an instant. It was all the others needed. In a second a blade was grazing her neck and she knew she was about to die. She was not afraid, but the pain in her shoulder, in her arm, in her knees where she had just fallen on the hard ground, made her spill a few tears.

In that instant they heard it, the howl of a wolf in the woods, a mere ten meters from the melee.

And then there were cries of terror and howls of pain joining the grunting and tearing of flesh. Arya blacked out.

When she woke up Arya felt warm. Even though she was in pain and felt the hard ground under her she had the strange feeling that she was home.

She opened her eyes and realized that the fur she felt against her side was moving.

She knew her even before her sight found its focus. She had missed her as much as all the other members of her family.

- Nymeria, she whispered simply, laying her uninjured arm on the she wolf's fur.

She had become enormous in the woods, a beast taller than her, 1m50 tall at her neck, two meters in total.

But it was if they had never left each other, as if Arya had stayed in those woods with Nymeria instead of going to King's Landing, as if Nymeria had come to Braavos with her. All around the both of them stood more wolves than Arya had ever seen. Maybe up to two hundred.

For two days Arya laid where Nymeria had dragged her away from the road, too weak to walk by herself. The wolves hunted for her as well as themselves and she warged with Nymeria to bring water back in the gourds so she could clean her wounds and drink. The wolves had eaten all 30 men and their horses but left her mare alive, and even managed to stop her from fleeing by surrounding her until she calmed down. Therefore Arya was able to get back the herbs, tools and supplies she kept in her satchels. Some of these poisons could kill a man before he noticed it. She used some of the other herbs and potions so heal her wounds.

Arya had heard from some villagers she met two days before that an immense pack of wolves had been seen, bigger than any any man had ever seen before, and which killed Lannister, Stark and Baratheon men. But some had whispered stories of ex-Stark men surviving such encounters while the wolves tore Freys and all others, as if the wolves had decided not to attack them. She hadn't paid it any mind, in the South there had always numerous rumours about how northerners were magicians or sorcerers, immune to some diseases or even capable of seeing in the dark. Being impervious to wolves was just another one of these ludicrous stories, she thought.

But…

Nymeria wouldn't have attacked men wearing Stark colours, and she obviously led this pack.

The wolves adopted Arya immediately. Some of the younger ones fought mock battles among themselves while others watched amused or annoyed. Arya shared enough of Nymeria's mind to differentiate one from another even if they were too numerous for her to know them all well. But since Nymeria's thoughts came with smells and images it was somewhat hard for Arya to know of which Nymeria was thinking without going all the way into her mind, giving up her own body for a while. Since that wouldn't do in battle Arya took to name them. Some of them wore simple names like "small-dark-one" or "big-white-she-wolf-with-three-cubs" but others had real names like "Tyrion" for a very small adult wolf with almost golden fur and "Jeyne" for a young she wolf who reminded Arya of Sansa's childhood friend Jeyne Poole somehow. They treated her with care and affection and a sort of wolfish respect. Arya understood quickly that they thought her their alpha. In return she thought of them as her pack. Arya noticed that Nymeria shared her thought with them. Maybe it was a trait of all direwolves, maybe they could all know where the members of their packs were and what they did, but men knew too little of hem for Arya to be sure. Because she shared her mind with Nymeria through their link she could communicate indirectly with all the wolves too. She wasn't linked to them as she was to her direwolf, but it didn't matter. Before her training she hadn't even noticed that she sent thoughts to Nymeria, but now she did and could send specific ones.

- The Freys killed Robb, she said aloud, sending images of the Red Wedding, knowing Nymeria understood as she moaned sadly, trying to comfort her. They also killed Grey Wind. The she wolf cried again and groaned. Another than Arya might have feared for her life, being grunted furiously at by a two-meter tall direwolf. But Arya was a Stark, a daughter of Winterfell, and she hated the Freys as much as her wolf.

- Others have helped them in their treachery, the young girl said then. I don't know who. I must know, and then we can avenge our family.

The wolf seemed to not, and maybe he did. Arya knew only that the mind she shared with her wolf cried for vengeance and that they both knew they had to find the right targets before acting.

They left at down on the third day after her fight. Arya rode her mare on the road while the wolves ran in the forest all around her. Sometimes when the cold wind became too much she jumped to Nymeria, running with her in the warmth of her fur. The wind wasn't too bad yet in the Neck. Snow fell sparingly.

It wasn't Winter yet.

**Yay, another chapter translated !**

**Please tell me what you thought, if you liked reading it (or not ^^')**

**Oh, and since english isn't my native language, feel free to notify me if you see mistakes or weird things (those happen when you translate, you get the two languages mixed up and end up with something noone can understand except you XP) See you next week !**

**Ferz**


	4. 3 The Twins

**Hi ! Here is chapter 3, I hope you like it ! Please note that this is a translation of my french fic La revanche d'Arya, so if you speak/read french, you can check it, it has a 5 chapters advance ^^. Also, english isn't my first language so if you see mistakes please point them out in a review so I can correct them !**

**Anyway, here it is, ****enjoy !**

_Previously :_

_They left at down on the third day after her fight. Arya rode her mare on the road while the wolves ran in the forest all around her. Sometimes when the cold wind became too much she jumped to Nymeria, running with her in the warmth of her fur. The wind wasn't too bad yet in the Neck. Snow fell sparingly._

_It wasn't Winter yet._

**Chapter 3: The Twins**

It was five more days until Arya arrived at the Twins. Her wounds were mostly closed by then, only reminding her of their presence when she moved too swiftly. She had not needed to stop to hunt, even though she had spent three more days on the road than she had planned for. The pack had brought her rabbits and small game at every meal. The woods were still full of life, but it would dwindle soon when snow would cover the landscape. She had stopped twice when passing big enough villages and hadn't left before explaining how Arya Stark was hiding on the Wall with her brother Jon Snow, was fighting with Daenerys on her own dragon called Ice, was a witch with evil powers learnt in four years of study in Penthos, or had married Lord Greyjoy and now ruled the Iron Fleet after killing him. Each time she told the same story a few times to a few people then moved on.

She asked Nymeria and the wolves not to make themselves known to the West Town smallfolk as she entered the city. As it's name clarified quite nicely, West Town stood on the western side of the Twins and she didn't have to cross the bridge to enter it. She stopped in an inn and sat down. She immediately noticed the loneliness of the place. Situated on the main square of West Town it should have been at least half full at this time of day, but she was the only client. When she asked for something to eat and drink the innkeeper seemed so happy one could have thought she had just said she would pay him 100 golden dragons for it.

- Pour yourself one too, innkeeper, she said with her most masculine voice when the man brought her ale and meal.

He had obviously waited exactly for that and thanked her profusely while pouring himself a drink and joining her.

He sat down after she nodded with a smile to the seat in front of her.

- You don't seem to have many guests, pardon me sayin', Arya said, using a sympathetic tone and a Vale accent.

The man sighed.

- Aye, since the Weddin', it is, he said in a whisper. Folks liked the – King Robb, he whispered the name as though someone could be listening to them in the empty room– an' now they says the Twins are haunted.

Arya shrugged, answering.

- The gods are unhappy. Killing a host, even if it's for good reason…

- Ya think ? Asked the man, looking around and seeming scared by the idem. Arya shrugged again, acting as though it didn't really matter to her one way or the other. The man continued, eyes wide open. "But the Great Sept in King's Landin' says the Gods forgave the Lord Frey".

- Really? Arya asked, still unperturbed. I didn't know.

- Oh, aye, Lannister soldiers carried the news two moons ago. But folks take time to come back, they do. What can ya do except wait ? It's been three years since the Weddin', people got to get used to it.

- Well I am quite sorry for you, Master Innkeeper. At least you have some work when Lord Frey's allies come to visit him.

- Lad, 'm not one to criticize a Lord meself, but I rather stay poor than host Lord Bolton's men.

The name almost made Arya flinch. She looked at the innkeeper, hard pressed to calm herself. Roose Bolton was one of her father's bannermen. She had thought the Lannisters had helped or supported Lord Frey, for the Lord wasn't man enough to go through with such a thing on his own. But… Bolton ? She had heard he was Warden of the North now, but had thought it was because he was the only one the Northern Lords would accept. But she had been as naïve as a child, she realised. She would have to go kill Bolton in the Dreadfort, or maybe even in Winterfell, to avenge her family. Only then could she turn towards the Iron Islands and Theon Greyjoy and the Lannisters and all the others on her list.

- Lord Bolton, Arya asked, keeping up with the conversation through her musings. I thought Lord Bolton was Warden of the North ?

- Aye, he is. Was at the Red Wedding, too, and killed King Robb with his own hands, in the middle of the Great Hall. Me cousin was a servant an' she says he said "The Lannisters send their regards".

- And now he rules the North.

- Aye, that he does. He was to be married to Arya Stark, ya know, because the Northern Lords didn't want to be ruled by none but Starks, but then it was found the girl wasn't a Stark at all. Since Lord Bolton defeated Stannis Baratheon at the time, no one dares to move.

- The Stark girl must be long dead, Arya said.

- Probably, aye. A pity, she could have married some lordly Lord and he would have killed the Bolton monsters for her.

Arya grunted to agree with the man, paid for the beers and the meal and left. She knew enough for now; she would have time later to extract the details from Frey before killing him.

The fortress of the Twins had been aptly named. Arya remembered the lessons from Septa Mordane, given an eternity ago to her and Sansa in their study room in Winterfell. The Freys of old had spent three generations building the First Bridge, six hundred years ago. Since then stone had replaced wood and on each side had sprouted identical strongholds. This bridge was the only crossing on the Green Fork, the great river dividing North and South under the Neck. To avoid the Twins one had to travel through the dense forests in the West or the mountains in the East, and none of those ways permitted to travel fast or with waggons. The Freys' fortune had been built from the taxes travellers and merchants had to pay to cross their holdfast. On both side of the bridge the twin castles were manned, armed and constantly prepared to be sieged. Drawbridges could be raised at a moment's notice, and even if by some miracle you could cross the three meters wide staves between solid ground and gates, you only found yourself in an enclosed courtyard where you were siting ducks for the archers firing at you through arrowslits in the walls all around. You could not defend yourself and any army would be cut down. And even if, one way or the other, you managed to survive the massacre and cross through to the bridge on the other side of the stronghold, you still had to cross it under fire from the tower in the middle of the bridge itself. Once the bridge was crossed the men you had left would have to go through the same defences all over again to exit the second fortress, the same archers embushed in the courtyard...

One didn't attack the Twins, it was a well known fact. Even though all the Great Houses and most of the smaller ones of Westeros resented the Freys for the taxes they had to pay and the tributes they had to offer each time they wanted to cross the bridge with their armies, no one had ever evicted the Freys from their holdfast.

Until now, thought Arya, smiling to herself. She had survived her training in the House of Black and White, she could attack the Freys at the Twins.

She could of course have entered the Twins in the dead of night, found Lord Frey's chambers and slit his throat while he slept (or woken him up and tortured him until he died from his wounds to quench her thirst for revenge). But she didn't want to simply kill Lord Walder Frey. She wanted to annihilate the whole House, detroy the Freys until none were left to carry the name and history forgot them. She wanted to kill the three thousand men manning the fortress, men who had taken part in the murder of her brother and mother. She would kill them all. She wouldn't make the mistake her father had made, letting enemies live to hurt her ten years later when they had become men grown. Maybe it wasn't an honourable way of doing things, but Freys didn't deserve to be treated with honour. And Arya wasn't exactly sure she knew what honour meant anymore. The Many Faced God didn't offer his gift depending on such a thing as honour.

Arya entered the fortress easily, hidden under a grain waggon brought in to feed Lord Frey's men. She first went to the kitchens, passing effortlessly for a young serving boy with her neck bent, her eyes lowered, her boy wig on her head and her common clothes. It was ridiculously easy to poison foods and drinks. She just had to be careful to use a poison which would not hurt her wolves if they decided to feast upon the flesh of the fallen guardsmen.

Walder Frey was a paranoid man and she assumed he would have at least one taster, but it didn't matter. She didn't intend to let him die in his sleep before answering her questions or before he knew who had ruined him. She inquired smoothly on the exact time the guards ate their dinner and waited quietly.

The had chosen the Amber Pearl, a relatively slow poison, of which the symptoms could only be felt in the last minutes before death. Three hours after ingesting it the head started pounding. Ten minutes later you took your last breath. It was a particularly good weapon against a large group of people because even if they all didn't eat exactly at the same time no one would become suspicious until three hours after the first started eating.

Fortunately for them the servants didn't eat the same meals as the guards. It would have been a shame if they had died too, for no real reason. Arya wouldn't have lost sleep over it but she might have felt bad about it for a few minutes afterwards.

Night had fallen for an hour before she heard the first screams. Arya smiled. She could have chosen ten poisons with the same overall effects, but she had chosen the most painful she had. She wanted to hear them wail in pain as loudly as the songs of joy they had sung while they mounted his wolf's head atop her brother's body. She would never forget that image, but their screams now could maybe weaken the almost physical pain she felt when she thought of it.

First the servants thought of an attack, but they understood soon enough that it wasn't the case and that the guards were dying untouched, vomiting blood and entrails screaming at their posts.

Arya heard the terrified whispers from her hiding place.

"The Gods' punishment" said a woman, looking as a guard fell from a high tower, howls of pain cutting through the night.

The daughter of Winterfell asked herself briefly if, maybe, that wasn't the case, if she was not perhaps the means by which the Many Faced God was punishing these men for their treason to host custom. But it didn't matter, after all. Whether she was or wasn't some god's tool she acted of her own free will, she accomplished her own vengeance.

Lord Frey had hidden with his close family in the Great Hall of the Western Castle where stood the Frey quarters. Arya took her time to open the great Gate of the Fortress and lower the drawbridge, opening the way for her pack. Nymeria jumped on the bridge before it was halfway down, her great muscles tending fearsomely. Soon wolves were growling at trembling servants all through the castles.

- Not the servants, Arya reminded them. She had explained the plan with images that morning, and they knew what to do. She would keep broadcasting the images of the guards, the ones they were here to kill. She would take care of the others herself.

It was very easy to cross the bridge. All the guards still alive to shoot her with their arrows were too unorganised to do so properly. Some men had not eaten that night, or eaten too little, or eaten something else, and were still alive but they were few and far between. When her wolves found them in castle rooms and she wasn't with them they tore their throats out. When she found one herself she killed him with no effort whatsoever.

Two guardsmen were still alive and sharp, waiting in front of the doors leading to Lord Frey's quarters but Arya didn't even bother to kill them herself. She opened the doors while two wolves started eating them to her right and left.

Inside the room waited the House Frey members, men and women and children, innumerable sons, grandsons, daughters and granddaughters of Walder Frey looking at her with terror in their eyes as she crossed the last doors her mother and brother had ever crossed alive.

**Another chapter translated ! Arya is badass as ever, and she has no mercy. Sorry, but she lived in a house of assassins for 4 years, it seams the logical turn of events to me. Anyway, I hoped you liked it, see you next week for the next chapter called "The Freys" (big spoiler here ^^)**

**Please do not forget that you are very welcome to press the review button down bellow. It's like a drug to authors, you know, we _need_ it. I'm always very impressed by the number of people who read my fics and don't leave comments. It's stupid but I always feal like if you read it and don't leave any comment it's because you really didn't like it, and then I feel sad... I know, it's stupid, I said so first XP**

**Hope you liked it !**

**Ferz**


	5. 4 The Freys

**Here is chapter four, hope you guys like it !**

**Chapter 4: The Freys**

_Previously:_

_Inside the room waited the House Frey members, men and women and children, innumerable sons, grandsons, daughters and granddaughters of Walder Frey looking at her with terror in their eyes as she crossed the last doors her mother and brother had ever crossed alive._

Arya entered the great hall of the Twins where the most important members of House Frey had taken refuge as soon as the first guardsmen had started to die.

- Who dares invade the holdfast of House Frey? Intoned the old Lord. He looked frail, with his balding head and the furs warming his ancient thin legs, but his gaze burned with uncontained hatred.

- All your men are dead, Arya answered, and your lives are mine to do as I please. If one of you do not bear the name Frey and do not fight under the twin towered banner, speak now. But if I find that you have lied I will torture you for so long you will forget even your own name and my wolves will refuse to eat your putrefied flesh.

There was a silence, then a movement in a corner, and the Lord Frey shrieked in furry.

- Shut your mouth, woman, or I will pierce you with my own sword.

Two wolves rushed forward and were on Lord Frey in less than a second, stopping their fangs mere centimeters from his skin and growling. Arya walked to them and put her sword the Lord's throat.

- Touch the one who wanted to speak and I will behead your Lord, she told the others, then my wolves will finish you all, or maybe just eat some parts.

A woman of maybe twenty years of age walked slowly out of the corner she stood in, a girl of two in her arms.

- Who are you? Arya asked.

- I… I am Roslin Tully, Ser. And this is my daughter, Catlyn of House Tully.

- Tully? Arya asked, not bothering to correct the woman's assumption of her gender. She still wore her wig and had not given her name, small surprise that those people took her for a man. "I do not know any Roslin Tully".

- I am… Lord Edmure's wife, Ser.

Arya looked at her. So this was the woman her uncle had wed. Their wedding would always be remembered as one of the greatest betrayal ever committed. Strangely Arya had never thought of her or her uncle when thinking of that night, and she thought she probably wasn't the only one.

- Is Lord Tully alive?

- He is, Ser. The is in one of the cells, in the dungeons, she said, and Arya felt some bitterness in her tone.

- Lady Tully, take you daughter and wait for me in the corridor. My business here is not over yet.

The woman nodded and went out without protest.

- Who do you think you are, boy? One of the Frey screamed? You think you're strong, with your little wolves? Our men…

- Are all dead. And I am no boy, traitor, Arya answered, taking her wig off. I am Arya Stark of Winterfell and I am here to avenge the deaths of my mother and brother.

Everyone started whispering between themselves in the room, men, women and children alike.

- But I do not intend to let my wolves eat you alive, Arya said. Every one of you will have the opportunity to fight for his life and the lives of those he wants to protect. If one of you wins my wolves will go and you will live. If I win, you die.

- Walo, Lord Frey ordered, kill this Stark bitch.

- With pleasure, My Lord. He towered over Arya, twice her size, and was very clearly a seasoned fighter. It did not matter. Too slow.

He walked to the center of the room and she took her position in front of him. He had just started raising his longsword when Arya attacked. She didn't need to wait any more, she had observed him from the instant he had answered Lord Frey and knew exactly how he would react. Her thin dagger went through his eye and dug a hole in his brain long before he finished his first move.

- Is that the fiercest you have to present? Arya asked.

Another Frey walked to the front, then another and another. Soon Arya needed to order her wolves to move the corpses from the center of the room so that she could keep moving.

And then only Lord Frey, seated on his old wooden throne, three of his closest heirs and women and children remained.

Arya nodded.

- I think I won't kill you right away, she said. I believe a public execution would be more satisfying, don't you think ?

- You still have to beat me, girl, one of the three heirs said, but his tone was unsure. After all he had just witnessed fifty of his kin slaughtered by this girl.

Arya hummed, looking at the three men and smiling.

When they fought the youngest of the three was almost good at it and she needed four moves to win, her thin blade against his throat. She took his weapons and asked a wolf to make him stay put while she fought the other two. When that unpleasantness was finished (she despised fighting someone she wanted to kill and not killing them in the fight), she turned to the women.

- Which of you married into House Frey? Arya asked.

Ten women stepped forward.

- Which of you do not have children? The girl continued.

Only three women didn't have children. Arya searched her pouch and took out a vial.

- If you drink this you will lose any child you are carrying. If you prefer not to drink and die to protect them, be my guest.

All three of them drank.

- No one carrying the name Frey by birth will survive this night, Arya said, because such is the will of my vengeance against a House of vile traitors hated by the gods themselves. But if perchance your children were bastards of some passing peasant, and you said so now in front of these witnesses, they would not have to die.

The first woman understood very quickly and spoke up.

- My daughters are not trueborn, she said. I got them from a… knight I met, I do not know his name.

- My son and my daughter too, another woman immediately said, they are Waters, My Lady.

- And my children, another mother said, pushing forward a boy of three or four.

At the end all the women had spoken.

- That is a lot of bastards, Arya noted, amused, looking at one of the boys who looked very clearly like a Frey. Well, the Freys are already traitors; it is not surprising that their children are bastards. I am not here to kill the sons of some peasant, My Ladies, she continued.

Without hesitating an instant she raised her knife and killed the two young women born Frey and who had no mother do declare them bastards. None of them had children, of course, since they still lived in their House holdfast and so were not married. The women left calmed down as Arya didn't move to attack any of them. Then she turned towards Lord Walder Frey.

- I don't intend to fight a girl more suited to warm my bed and carry my bastards than hold a sword, Lord Frey intoned.

- I am obviously more suited to kill Freys, seeing that I am not pregnant and most of your kin has already died at my hands. But id does not matter; I have other things to take care of. I do not bother minding what you intend to do or not to do, Frey. You will tell me, now, who else betrayed my family.

- That's all you want, girl? The old man exclaimed, obviously thinking that she wanted to exchange his life for the information. Bolton, Tywin and Cersei Lannister, they are the ones who betrayed the Starks. I was only a tool in the hands of your real enemies, and…

The wolf waiting near Lord Frey bit his arm, his fangs sinking into the old flesh through the rich silks and furs. That had the expected result and Frey didn't finish his sentence, occupied by groaning in pain.

- Ladies, Arya said, I will this room for now. My wolves have been ordered to eat any of you who moves, talks or does more than sit and breathe. I would suggest you keep an eye on your children, apparently their flesh is very tender.

And Arya left to join Roslin Tully, winting in the corridor. The Lady looked at her strangely and Arya remembered she still didn't know who she was.

- I am Arya Stark of Winterfell, she introduced herself, and you married my uncle Edmure, making you my aunt, if what you said was true.

- I don't understand, the woman said, I thought all the Starks were dead.

- I am still alive, and I might not be the only one. Us Starks are hard to kill. Take me to my uncle.

The woman looked to the closed doors behind them.

- Are they all…

- No. Lord Frey and three of his heirs are alive awaiting their public execution tomorrow morning. More than that I have somehow discovered that all the children in the room are apparently bastards named Waters, so I didn't have to kill them. It is an interesting turn of events. Naturally if any of them turned out to be a Frey after all I would have to kill them. But the two Frey women are dead.

- Oh, the young woman said. Arya decided then that she was not totally hateful. And the little girl in her arms had the same hair as Sansa did, and was a new Catlyn Tully. This woman could not be absolutely awful.

The mother blocked her daughter's vision while they crossed the corridors where had fallen the poisoned guards. Here and there a wolf was feasting on a corpse. At her side Nymeria and ten other wolves kept their eyes on their surroundings, searching for threats but finding none.

Edmure Tully was kept in a relatively comfortable cell, with real walls stopping the cold air from entering and a high thin window to differentiate night from day. He had a bed with enough blankets not to be sick and a desk with a candle, ink and paper. It was far from the luxury normally offered to captive Lords but it wasn't the worse place in the world.

He looked very surprised to see his door open, looked at Arya with a startled gaze. Then his eyes turned to the wolves behind her and his wife and daughter behind them.

- Am I asleep? He asked, agape.

- No, Arya said simply. Uncle, I am Arya Stark of Winterfell and I have take the Twins from the Freys.

Edmure looked at her for a long time and nodded, recognizing her at last.

- Arya ? I… I thought you had died. By the Seven, Arya !

Then the shock of his niece's survival wore off and Edmure registered the rest of what she had said.

- What do you mean you have taken the Twins? With what army?

- With my wolves, she said, gesturing to Nymeria, letting Lord Tully look at the ferocious beasts. They were not doing anything now, just looking at him defiantly, but even then they looked dangerous.

- With… your… wolves, Edmure repeated, as if he couldn't really believe it. And the Freys? The guards?

- The soldiers, the knights and the guards are dead, Arya answered without emotion.

So are all the Freys except the Lord and three of his heirs. My wolves are keeping their eyes on them upstairs. But first, is this truly your wife? And your daughter?

- Yes, Edmure answered.

- Very well. Are you well enough to walk up right away? Arya asked, looking at her uncle's ragged look.

Edmure nodded.

- Lady Tully, Arya said, looking at her aunt and the child in her arms. Maybe it would be better if you went to your own chambers and stayed there for a time. He will stay with you to make sure no wolf or man attacks you, she added, pointing to one of the wolves who had followed her downstairs.

- My Lady, if you allow me... I would like to inquire as to what will happen to us...

- I will not harm my uncle's wife not my cousin, Arya answered truthfully. However I fully intend to destroy House Frey and each and every member of it so that it's name will disappear forever. Nothing you can do or say will change my mind on this.

- Lady Arya, about the children you spared...

- The bastards? What about them?

- If my Lord Husband agrees to it, I thought they might enter our household...

- Once I have killed the last Freys I will offer the opportunity for the wives I spared to go back to the Houses of their birth. If they will it, after signing the papers declaring them bastards they can take their sons and daughters with them. If they don't you are welcome to them. You will have time to think on it, however.

In the end Arya was grateful for Roslin's presence. She took charge of the servants and women left, ordered the hallways to be cleaned, the bodies to be burned and the blood to be washed. All night the sickening smell of burning corpses floated through the halls but Arya slept through it all.

A wolf groaning viciously and a terrified shriek woke her up. After her eyes adapted to the harsh light of the sun penetrating the room through the windows she saw that a young serving girl had tried to bring her breakfast. Nymeria and the three wolves guarding her had not liked that at all.

- Calm down, Arya said, smiling to the girl. The wolves immediately stopped growling and laid down peacefully again.

- Who are you ? Arya asked the girl.

- Me name's Alyis, M'Lady. M'sorry for wakin' ya, I...

Arya shrugged.

- I don't bite, Alyis. You don't need to be scared. Your name isn't Frey, is it ?

- Oh, no, M'Lady.

- Then I don't have anything against you. Now, can you find me some hot water for a bath and clothes at my size ? Male clothes.

- yes, M'Lady, answered the small serving girl, leaving Arya's breakfast on the bedside table.

Arya smiled to herself. Even after all these deaths, even after she had poisoned all those men, the servants kept serving breakfast and bringing hot water.

Naturally the young girl didn't take even a bite of her food before checking it for poisons with the kit she kept on herself at all time. She was immune to most poisons used in these parts but she would rather be cautious than dead, in case her would be assassins used some rare poison.

Well, she guessed the servants had really disliked their previous masters, seeing as there was absolutely no poison in her food and drinks. Once she was full Arya took a bath and let the servants brush her hair and dress her. They weren't perfect but the clothes she wore must have belonged do some Frey lordling and fit her well enough. She ordered the servants to wash her old bloody clothes but kept all her weapons on her. You never could be too well prepared.

A quick check in Nymeria's mind told her her wolves had eaten their fill from the corpses during the night and would not be hungry for a week. It was a nice thought that the Frey men and bannermen would sustain her pack for the days to come. Lord Frey might appreciate the fact.

Arya asked a servant she met on the stairs about where she could find her uncle, her aunt and her cousin and went to them. They had stayed in Roslin's chamber's for the night, two small room more fitting for a servant than a Lady of House Frey, let alone House Tully. Still, it was a vast improvement on her uncle's cell.

- Lady Arya, Roslin exclaimed, a servant just told me you had woken up.

- I must thank you, I believe, Lady Roslin, for organising the servants after I retired to sleep.

Roslin gave a small bow. Technically she was Lady of a Great House and Arya's aunt, which meant that in normal circumstances Arya should have bowed to her, not the other way around. But these weren't normal circumstances and there was no doubt who was in command, with her wolves still patrolling the halls and the men she had killed not yet buried. Here and now, her voice was law.

- If you'll excuse me, I have to go to the kitchen and make sure the pots where I poured poison yesterday have been correctly washed. When I come back up I would like to talk to you, uncle, aunt, Arya said. Little Catlyn might be better off not hearing our words.

Arya noded to them and walked away. In the kitchen she found some servants washing up. A young lad shrieked like a girl when he saw her and bowed, cheeks reddening. The others followed suit.

- Stand up. I'm here to warn you that you will have to wash all the pots and cooking instruments you used yesterday at least five times.

The people of the village to the east of the Twins had probably noticed the black smoke coming out of the fortresses for a long time, now, even if they had not heard the noises of death in the night. It was time to speak to them. But first, Roslin and Edmure Tully. She found them easily enough, they had sent a servant after her to show her the way to the room where they had chosen to meet her. She knocked after the servant had departed.

- Lady Arya, you have said you wished to speak with us?

Roslin was obviously trying to hide her fears and disquiet. Arya simply nodded.

- Lady Roslin, I would like for us to be able to speak frankly to each other. However I am aware that yesterday I killed most of your House and family. I will understand if it is too hard for you to speak to me, and will not resent you for it.

Lady Tully closed her eyes a moment, but answered with a straight voice, even as a tear made its way along her pale cheek.

- I had two sisters, and they died by your hand yesterday night, Lady Arya. However… House Frey has never been a loving family. Lord Frey, my Lord Father, did not know our names, let alone whom we were the daughters of, and he was not the only one. My daughters were violent, jealous, hateful, and put me through hell since my wedding three years ago, harassing Catlyn too. I mourn their deaths, but I also mourn their lives, and the women they might have been if they hadn't been born in a family as twisted as ours. I am able to speak to you, Lady Arya.

- Thank you for your sincerity, I will offer mine in return. I have not attacked the Twins to free you, nor you, uncle, nor your daughter. The truth is that I didn't know you were here, or even alive. My only goal by taking the Twins was to destroy the Freys. So, I ask you, are there other Freys alive somewhere? Do I have enemies left carrying this name?

- My Lady, Roslin answered, I was far from my Lord Father's intrigues, but even I know this, as my aunts, nieces, cousins and sisters seemed to enjoy reminding me each time they had the chance. Since I have married my Lord Husband the Freys govern House Tully's city of old, Riverrun. Black Walder rules the Three Rivers city as Lord's Frey bannerman.

Arya thought about it. Riverrun would be easier to take than the Twins, and would also cost less lives, for all that it was bigger. The weeks she would loose there before turning North to kill Bolton would be well spent. Then, truly, House Frey would die. Until she killed them all, destroyed each and every smallest member of it, it could grow back as a bad weed in a garden did, invading everything.

- Lady Roslin, I imagine House Frey has some way of calling their people to the gates? Arya asked.

- Yes, Lady Arya, a great bell can be rung in the East Fortress' Sept, to call up the people of the city down bellow to hear a message from their Lord.

- Perfect. Please order the servants to ring the bell while I fetch the last Freys of the Twins for their execution. My wolves will not move for anyone else.

About half an hour later Arya stood on the wooden stage the Freys of the Twins used to speak to the people of their town. There were whispers going through the crowd, people wondering what had happened.

Arya spoke.

- People of the Riverlands, in this place where we are standing today an atrocious crime was committed three years ago, a crime against men and gods alike. The guest rights are sacred! Betraying them during an union before the gods, during a celebration dedicated to their glory, is an horrible monstrosity. I, Arya of the House Stark of Winterfell, have avenged the deaths of my brother Robb and my mother Catlyn Tully by killing all the Freys of the Twins except these four men, because those deserve a public execution for their crimes.

Arya paused, as the people of East Town whispered between themselves. "Arya Stark" some said. "The Young Wolf's sister" others whispered. "Alone?" asked some. But Arya didn't pay them any mind.

- Ser Emmon Frey, I am accusing you of betraying your liege Lord and his House, of violating Guest Rights and the divine protection provided by them. I, Arya Stark of Winterfell, do condemn you to die.

Arya raised the longsword she had chosen for the occasion in the well furnished Frey coffers and let it fall on her prisoner's neck. The kneeling man made a small pained cry, there was the sound of steel crushing bones and cutting flesh, and the head rolled to the ground. The traitor's body fell down on the stage with a thump.

- Ser Edwyn Frey, I am accusing you of betraying your liege Lord and his House, of violating Guest Rights and the divine protection provided by them. I, Arya Stark of Winterfell, do condemn you to die.

And again Arya raised her borrowed sword and let it fall on Frey's neck.

- Ser Sevron Frey, I am accusing you of betraying your liege Lord and his House, of violating Guest Rights and the divine protection provided by them. I, Arya Stark of Winterfell, do condemn you to die.

A third time the longsword fell, leaving a mark in the wood on the ground, under the pool of blood.

- Lord Walder of House Frey, Lord of the Twins and Protector of the Riverlands, Arya said with a smile in her voice. You thought you were all powerfull. You thought surviving eight wives and fathering more than twenty sons would insure your House endurance. Know now that after your head has fallen to this ground, I will ride to Riverrun and kill Black Walder Frey and with him all those who carry your name still in the Seven Kingdoms. This, I pledge to the Old Gods and the New. Soon no one will remember your name.

That, more than anything else Arya could have said, seemed to enrage the old Lord. He started to shriek, insulting her with all his might. The young girl completely ignored it and her calm in front of him was extremely fascinating to the people watching. To them she looked as a representation of justice itself; the young girl standing calmly over the crouching, foul old Lord. Arya had no idea of such thoughts. In that instant, only her vengeance mattered.

- I am accusing you of betraying your liege Lord and his House, of violating Guest Rights and the divine protection provided by them by committing heinous and vile crimes. The gods themselves will smile upon your corpse, Frey, Arya finished. I, Arya Stark of Winterfell, do condemn you to die.

A second later there were no Frey left at the Twins.

The people, even though they were clearly shocked, didn't seem to mourn particularly their old masters or mind greatly their future change in ownership. The general opinion seamed to be that it could hardly be worse than the Old Lord.

- Lord Edmure Tully will stay at the Twins until my sword and my fangs find the Freys in Riverrun, the young girl said.

For a moment, there was silence, then someone shouted.

- Stark!

Arya thought for a second that it was an accusation but immediately a second voice joined the first, and a third one, and soon the whole crowd was shouting.

- Stark! Stark! Stark!

She turned to Edmure, waiting behind her with his wife.

- Why are they shouting my name? She asked. I just killed their Lord.

- The Freys oppressed their people and were far from loved, even before my wedding, Edmure said. I would imagine that it did not improve things.

Arya returned to the room where she had chosen to sleep the night before speaking with her uncle. He had finally accepted - after she had coolly reminded him that SHE had freed him, not an army of men - that she would leave for Riverrun alone. He would summon Lord Mallister, whom he knew had only bent the knee under heavy threats, and would ally with him to take back his lands. At the same time he would look after the Frey children and wives left. For now they had been locked in their rooms and would be let out once there were men to watch them. The servants had acknowledged without argument the change of Lordship, just as the people had.

**So... please feel free to leave a review (pretty please ^^)**

**I hope you liked this chapter, see you next time ! (even though I won't see you and you won't see me...)**

**Oh, and also, I probably have made translation mistakes, and if so you can point them out and I'll correct them !**

**Ferz**


	6. 5 Riverrun

**Here is chapter five, sorry for being late, I was lazy and put off translating it for a while TT**

**Chapter 5: Riverrun**

_Previously:_

_Arya returned to the room where she had chosen to sleep the night before speaking with her uncle. He had finally accepted - after she had coolly reminded him that SHE had freed him, not an army of men - that she would leave for Riverrun alone. He would summon Lord Mallister, whom he knew had only bent the knee under heavy threats, and would ally with him to take back his lands. At the same time he would look after the Frey children and wives left. For now they had been locked in their rooms and would be let out once there were men to watch them. The servants had acknowledged without argument the change of Lordship, just as the people had._

Arya left her mare in the Frey's stables. Nymeria had offered to carry her while they traveled to the Twins, but Arya hadn't wanted to leave her horse behind then. However in a forest a wolf did run faster than a horse, and, on Nymeria's back, she would only need six or seven days to reach Riverrun.

Arya followed the directions her uncle Edmure had given her and arrived with her pack into the Forest of Whispers. It was the perfect place for them to stay as it stood a few hundred meters only from one of the bridges leading into the city.

Before she had left him Arya had asked Edmure to give her the names and description of the five most loyal men he had in Riverrun. She entered the city alone and without any trouble, passing easily for some nearby farmer's son looking for work as a servant in the Riverlands' capital. She found the first man on her list easily. Alister Fisher had been the Master of Arms of the castle, a prestigious title, but had been demoted to captain of a City Watch brigade. However he was still well known by the townspeople, and Arya had only to ask one innkeeper after buying some ale to learn where she could find him.

- "What d'ya want, boy?" a guard asked, inspecting her clothes and obviously finding them lacking.

- "'M Sorry, Ser. I bring a message from My Lord Ser Torrhen, for Ser Captain Fisher."

She was let in without another question. Arya had borrowed a random name amongst the few minor Lords of the Riverlands she remembered from her childhood lessons.

- "A message from Torrhen?" The Captain asked. "What does he want with me?"

Arya gave the parchment and whispered.

- "I bring a message from a Lord, but his name is not Torrhen, Captain." Arya knew her voiced had changed from a second ago. It carried again her northern accent and the softness of a girl's voice. Her manner of speaking was more Lady than commoner, and the man in front of her was bound to hear it. The captain looked at her with frowning eyes.

- "Read the letter," Arya said simply.

She had asked her uncle to write a few lines, because his men would recognize his writing and it would be the proof she needed to convince them.

"The one carrying this message is my niece, Lady Arya Stark of Winterfell. She freed me from the Twins. Lord Frey is dead. Obey her as you would obey me and she will free our city."

After checking no one could see her except the captain, Arya took off her wig. The man bowed to her.

- "My Lady," he said with a lowered voice.

- "Captain, may I assume that you will help me take back your city?" Arya asked simply.

- "Yes, My Lady."

- "Very well. Tonight I will arrange for the Drawbridge near the Forest of Whispers to malfunction and not be raised. By the time it is repaired it will be too late." Arya stopped, thinking of her plan. "When the sun disappears behind the horizon you and the men still loyal to the Tullys will have to rebel. My army and I will enter by the bridge."

Arya took a flask from her pouch.

- "How many men do you think you can find? You need to tell only the ones whose loyalty you are absolutely sure of, or the Freys might hear of our plans."

- "There are a thousand Tully men left in the city, My Lady, but I won't have time to reach them all. We have been scattered, obviously so that we can't organize a rebellion."

- "It will not matter. Lord Tully has given me other names after yours, I will find them once I am done here. A last thing, Master at Arms," Arya said, giving the man the flask. "On the clothes of every trustworthy fighting man you will put a drop of this. It has no effect whatsoever, good or bad, but you will understand what it does before the end of the night. Please do not tell anyone the bridge by which I intend to enter, and do not mention my presence if at all possible. Do I have your word?"

- "Yes, My Lady, I will do as you have ordered."

Arya didn't go see the last man on her list. As the third man he still worked in the castle, which made him more difficult to approach, but that was not what made her hesitate. While the four other men had all been demoted this one had been highly promoted when the Freys had taken the city after the Siege of Riverrun. He might be trustworthy, but Arya preferred not to take her chances. Four men were enough. She had left them with enough potion for each fighter in the city to get a drop, they wouldn't run out of it.

Before she left the city she stopped near one of the mechanisms supposed to raise and lower the drawbridge. In the service of the Many Faced God she had learned how to create any trap, and of course how to stop any mechanism and make it look as if it were a normal malfunction. Even in the middle of the day, in a crowded street, it was easy for her to slip in the shadows and modify the mechanism so it would fail to raise the bridge. Once the fault was found, an hour or so before night when the bridges were raised, they would still need to wok on it for two hours to find the problem and repair it; but it would be too late and the wolves would be in.

The following events were much simpler than she had expected. Most of the guards were Tully men, kept because the Freys lacked men and because they had had not opportunity to die for their House, since the Tullys had surrendered.

The bridge's malfunction did not alert anyone, which meant that it was a common occurrence. Behind Nymeria's eyes, who had a much better night vision than she did, Arya watched men trying to repair the bridge without any success. As the sun disappeared completely, Arya and her wolved attacked. Two hundred meters separated the edge of the forest from the city walls. In the dark night the guards didn't even notice her until she was a few meters from the bridge, but then it was too late. All the loyal soldiers had started shouting the Tully name and attacking the Freys. Aya released her wolves on them. Their instructions were simple. Attack any fighting man not wearing the smell Arya had made them smell before, except if the man surrendered. The potion, odorless to a man, had a very strong smell for a wolf. Arya had needed to jump from her body to Nymeria's for two hours to find the perfect ingredients. The mix had no real property except for its odor to wolves, and probably other animals too. It would repel the wolves and make them attack the real enemies.

Except Arya no human in the city had expected the wolves, however the young girl saw that the Tully men recovered very quickly from the shock, especially since the ferocious beasts only attacked their enemies. Arya killed a few guards on her way but didn't pay much attention to them. There were too many Tully men and the battle was almost won from the start. The men would have rebelled on their own were it not for the threat of their Lord's assassination at the Twins and then the retaliation of the four thousand men there.

The citadel was very well guarded in case of an attack, with well established security measures. However those mechanisms would need guards to implement them, soldiers to shoot arrows to kill their enemies, men to watch over the walls. But all the guards, from one camp and the other, were fighting for their lives or their city and didn't pay much attention to actually guarding doors and walls.

Arya had not trouble entering the castle with fifty wolves behind her.

Black Walder was a clever man, apparently. He had kept a whole Frey brigade as his personal guard. However he had probably not expected to have an enemy attack at the same time as a rebellion, nor that the enemies would be wolves.

The funny thing, Arya thought, was the fact that the men could have killed Arya's wolves if they really tried to. At least they could have killed a few of them. But most men, when faced with half a hundred wolves, including one taller than a horse, seemed to freeze in their breeches, unable to think properly. The sight had something unnatural, so many wolves were not supposed to stand in a castle and attack. At worst you could find them in a forest, if you were very unlucky, but in a castle? So men stood still and let themselves be devoured by the wolves. Even when they tried to attack, they were not trained to fight wolves, but swords. If you stopped a wolf's jaws he could still kill you with its claws, or run between your legs and jump at you from behind.

And so Arya's pack tore the men apart while the young girl fought their Lord Commander. She killed the man quickly and observed the room where knew Frey stood with his last men. It was one of the most defensible room in the castle, with a small door permitting men to only enter one by one, but the room was large and was probably filled with swordsmen.

However the narrow door was perfect for the wolves, they could come a lot faster than men and two by two. More than that they had no trouble fighting in a small space, contrary to the Frey men who had to back out into Frey's room. A new wolf would then enter the room, and then a new one until the fifty beasts who had come there with Arya were inside, except Nymeria who was too big to enter. Arya followed them in, leaving her direwolf to guar the door.

Black Walder was staring at his men's corpses scattered about in the room, wolves tearing their meals apart and sometimes growling at each other or at him. He looked so shocked Arya had to refrain not to laugh.

- "Are you alright, Lord Frey?" Arya asked. "No one had bitten your tongue, I hope?"

Arya was not wearing her usual wig but had attached her black hair in the Tully manner, in her mother's honor, since she was avenging her tonight. And also there was the fact that she couldn't remember how to do any other hairstyle. She remembered, little girl, as she watched her mother dress her own hair.

- "Who are you?" Asked Black Walder. "And you are mistaken, I am not Lord Frey."

- "I am Arya Stark of Winterfell," the young girl answered, watching him pale and savoring her victory. "And you _are_ Lord Frey, Black Walder, since I executed the Late Lord Frey and all his heirs standing at the Twins."

That, more than her army of wolves, more than the guards' rebellion, seemed to break Black Walder.

- "It's a lie, it cannot be true," the man answered, obviously trying to convince himself. "The Stark girl has died years ago and the Twins are impregnable."

- "By an army of men, maybe," Arya answered. "But I am not a man, and my army includes none. As for my name, it does not matter whether you believe me or not. I am here to kill you, Frey. Believe that."

Men arrived through the doors, but as the wolves didn't attack them Arya turned to look.

- "Guards, I am Arya Stark, niece of your true Lord Edmure Tully, and I order you to lock this man in the dungeons and to bring me all the living Freys you can find."

Arya mostly disliked being a "Lady", but when the men bowed and obeyed immediately the reflected that it was sometimes quite useful.

All Freys were brought to her in the following hour. Some had tried to hide, others to run away, but they had all been captured, except two of Black Walder's brothers– or cousins or nephews, Arya wasn't quite sure – who had been killed.

There were only twenty Freys, including four children and three women. The others were young men not yet married but who had been able to fight three years ago.

- "My Ladies," Arya said, looking at the three women. "Are you born Freys?"

The women shook their heads silently, probably too scared to speak.

- "Very well then." Arya gave them the potion she had given the women at the Twins and watched them take it.

- "Soldiers, Knights, loyal men of the Tullys'. I am Arya Stark, Daughter of Winterfell, and I came here to avenge my mother, Lady Catlyn Tully, and kill the Freys still alive. Tonight, they will die.

Whispers came through the crows, men looking at the wolves, befuddled.

- "A week ago I attacked the Twins, punished Walder Frey and his House for their betrayal against my brothe. I have found your Lord, my uncle Edmure, and freed him. He is ruling the Twins with his wife and daughter. He will come back to Riverrun as soon as he has pacified the north of the Riverlands.

The men were now watching Arya with some adoration, and she frowned a bit. She wasn't there to win any hearts but to take her revenge against traitors.

- "Ser," she spoke to one of the guards who had commanded a major part of the Tully guards, "you have helped me greatly in my vengeance. What is your name?"

- "I am Beor Keath, Your Highness."

It took a moment for Arya to understand that he was addressing her and not some prince or princess standing right beside or behind her. Robb had been a King, and so as her sister she was a Princess. At least according to this man.

- "Ser Keath, you loyalty is inspiring."

The man bowed.

- "My lady, my sword is sworn to the Tullys, but until the Seven take me back you will have my loyalty."

He looked sincere, and Arya saw that he wasn't the only one to see things in that way.

- "My uncle Edmure is your Lord, and you will have a lot to do to pacify the Riverlands. Tell me, Ser Keath, is the Tully Counselor still alive?"

Her grandfather's counselor was in fact alive and well, and he had been demoted, which enhanced Arya's trust in the man's loyalty a great deal. She summoned him to the apartments the servants had quickly prepared for her.

- "My Lady," he said, bowing low when he saw her. Arya imagined his slightly frightened look could have something to do with the fact that Nymeria and three other wolves were standing in the room and looking at him. The others were scattered around the castle and the city, mostly eating the corpses of the men they had killed. Once they were full they would go back to the forest and wait for her there.

- "You must be Sailers." Arya said.

- "Yes, My Lady. I had the honor of being your Lord Grandfather's counselor."

- "Vey well. Speak to me honestly, then, and take a seat." Arya waited for the man to sit in front of her and started to speak with a serious tone. "Coming back to Westeros I had no other goal than to avenge my family, and maybe find out if my sister is alive somewhere. Other than that I have heard rumors about by younger brothers, and will need to search for them too. However, by attacking the Freys at the Twins I freed my uncle Edmure, and to kill the Freys here I have liberated your city. I do not regret it, and I certainly do not desire for the Frey, the Lannister and the Bolton's treason to have any benefit for the traitors. However my goal was vengeance, and I seam to be facing more than individuals now."

- "My Lady..." the counselor started, not knowing where to start.

- "Tell me one thing, Counselor, what are the chances of House Tully staying the masters of the Riverlands once I leave the city?"

- "My Lady, here, the people have hoped for the Tully's return for a long time. The Lannisters, the Little Stag and the Tyrells are too occupied fighting the Martells and the Mother of Dragons to attack us. The North alone could be a real threat to Lord Edmure now."

Arya kept quiet, thinking. After a moment, she answered.

- "I intend to kill Roose Bolton and his bastard, and to retake the North. What do you expect the Vale to do?"

- "Lord Baelish, Protector of the Vale, has been strangely silent these past years. However the Lord of the Vale is your cousin, and the Blackfish serve under his command. But your arrival is a… surprise, for everyone."

- "You can say it, everyone thought me dead, Counselor. But I am alive, and determined to seek vengeance. Where is the Targaryen Princess?"

- "According to the last letters sent to Lord Frey by the Lannister Queen, she is in Blackmont and fights with her dragons."

- "What are her chances of winning?" Arya asked, frowning.

- "If she only had men, I would say she has more chances of loosing than of winning, My Lady. But she has dragons, and they are still growing. They are now bigger than two horses side by side, from what I have heard. It won't happen in a few days, but she will probably destroy the Lannisters and the Tyrels, if Winter doesn't destroy her first. It is a fight for time, now. If the Kingslayer stalls long enough he can win.

The young girl stayed silent for a long time, then asked.

- "Once the Riverlands pacified, what will be the Tully strength?"

- "It is almost certain that with all the Freys dead, and with the Lannisters unable to help, even the most reluctant Lords will bow to the Tullys once more without much of a fight, My Lady. In that case, and with no other enemy to fight, your uncle will have a force of ten thousand men able and ready to march soon, and probably five thousand more in the following months.

- "I see… please have a quill, some ink and the best parchment you can find." Arya said after a while.

She started to write.

**I hope you liked it! Next chapter is called "Daenerys", I will let you guess what it is about ^^.**


	7. 6 Daenerys

**Hi! Here is chapter six. It's a bit shorter than usual, but no worries, I'm publishing the next one today too, because I'm nice like that ^^ . For those who were impatient, here is Dany, at long last !**

**Chapter 13: Daenerys**

_Previously:_

_- "It is almost certain that with all the Freys dead, and with the Lannisters unable to help, even the most reluctant Lords will bow to the Tullys once more without much of a fight, My Lady. In that case, and with no other enemy to fight, your uncle will have a force of ten thousand men able and ready to march soon, and probably five thousand more in the following months._

_- "I see… please have a quill, some ink and the best parchment you can find sent to me." Arya said after a while._

_She started to write._

Daenerys sighed. She was winning, but at such a slow rate that it was starting to frighten her. Her enemies, mainly the Lannisters, the Baratheons and the Tyrells, had more men than she had and knew the land better than she did. But she had dragons. However Winter was closer and closer every day and, at this rate, she would leave the smallfolk in the South with no preparation whatsoever. She had no intention of ruling a starving kingdom, but she didn't know how to move things faster. Her campaign had been going on for two months now, and it had started to stagnate. Her opponents were trying to tire her out, attacking her with fast multiple small attacks. They had learned from history that you didn't try facing dragons with a ranged army where the men stood ready to be burned by her flames. She wished she could ride her dragons and be useful, and the wait was maddening.

She sighed again as her counselors joined her, a moment only after she had jumped off Rhaegal's back. She had tamed him, and Viserion too, and they both accepted to be mounted by her easily. Drogon was another story. Sometimes he let her climb on as he flew wherever he wanted, and sometimes he wouldn't even let her do that. She had finally accepted the fact and let him go as he pleased, as long as he kept eating enemies rather than her men or the smallfolk.

Tyrion was frowning, holding a parchment letter arrived by raven with no mark on the seal or signature of any kind. It was addressed to her personally, but her counselors usually opened her letter for her, in case they were somehow trapped or poisonous or something of the kind.

- "Your Majesty," the dwarf said, "a letter had arrived for you. It doesn't contain any poison, at least from what we have gathered, but we cannot open it."

Arya raised an eyebrow.

- "Tyrion, if you can't crack the seal you may rip the parchment. I'm quite sure the words will not fall on the ground."

- "My Queen," Daario Naharis spoke with an unusually serious tone, "a braavosi enchantment has been placed on this parchment. It is an ancient art, known to few, and I would not be able to use it myself. No one but the recipient of this letter can open it."

Daenerys looked at the common looking letter, which didn't look anything particular, but nodded. She had trust in Tyrion and Daario, and if for once they agreed on something, it must mean that it was the truth.

She took the letter and broke the seal with no difficulty at all.

"_Daenerys Stormborn Targaryen, Mother of Dragons, Khaleesi of the Horselords, Freer of Slaves, and all the other titles the ignorant girl writing this letter will undoubtedly have forgotten_."

Danny was reading out loud and her voice carried amusement as she finished the first sentence.

"_I am Arya Stark of Winterfell, and it is probable that your counselors will tell you I am dead_."

Daenerys raised her eyes from the parchment to see Tyrion looking at the letter with a dubious air while Ser Barristan was nodding.

"_I can not change whether or not you will believe in my survival. Before telling you why I am writing, I wish to write about my Father, Lord Eddard Stark, who lead the Rebellion against your Father beside Robert Baratheon. I will not tell you how honorable he was, for words on paper are even more untrustworthy than those spoken to the wind, as you cannot hear the tone in which they would have been spoken. Know simply the facts, before judging my Father as a traitor. King Aerys II was mad, I hope I am not offending you by writing it so directly. I was not present for the events that lead to the Rebellion, but I know enough. When your brother Rhaegar kidnapped my aunt Lyanna my uncle Brandon and his father, then Lord of Winterfell, were executed for no other reason than your father's paranoia. The Kingdom was in peril, and to be frank Aerys Targaryen was a bad King. As for his son, who could have succeeded to him, he took my aunt. My Father took arms to free her sister. When he learned the atrocities perpetrated against the Targaryen children and Ellia Martell he almost rebelled against his childhood friend Robert Baratheon and declared the North independent. But he didn't, and I do not know why. Perhaps he was mourning his sister, his father, his brother and had no ambition of starting a second war. Whatever it was, all of this is the past._

_I am no politician and do not know what to write here to give you the impression that I am one, so I will tell you the truth. My Father was executed by the Bastard Joffrey, probably as mad as your Father before him, because he had announced his real origin to the world. My brother Robb called his banners to try and free him, and when he learned of his death to try to avenge him. He was killed by traitors at the Red Wedding. If you do not know of it, ask your counselor, they will surely have heard of it. If not, do ask any commoner you see, they will tell you. It is very probable that my two younger brothers are dead too, at the hands of an ancient playmate of Robb's, Theon Greyjoy, heir to the Iron Islands. If they are not dead thy are wandering the North with no home and no House, and the oldest would just have turned one and ten. I cannot say whether my sister is alive or not, because during by Father's beheading I fled King's Landing and she stayed a prisoner. She has disappeared since Joffrey's death. During the years I have spent away from Westeros I have learnt numerous things, but I have never forgotten my revenge. A week ago I attacked the Twins, seat of House Frey, with my sword and two hundred wolves, and killed them all. Today I have destroyed the ones left in Riverrun and expect to receive my uncle, Lord Edmure Tully, freed by me at the Twins and ready to take his place back as Lord of the Riverlands. I intend to go back North and destroy the Boltons, may their name be forever forgotten. Once this is done I will only need to see Cersei Lannister's cold body and my revenge will be done._

_I am ready to offer you Lord Edmure Tully's allegiance. In a few weeks he will have pacified his land, and then ten thousand men will be ready to attack the Lannisters by the north. I do not know the situation in the North, nor the state I will find it, but when Bolton is dead, whatever happens to me, you won't find any opposition there._

_As for the Vale I do not know the exact situation, except to report the death f Lord Baelish, of which you might already know about. However the Lord of the Vale is my cousin and, since he has reached his fourteenth name day his will is law. If I can I will attempt to convince him to kneel before you._

_I ask for nothing for myself, but if one of my brothers or my sister survived I hope that once on the Iron Throne you remember that there has always been a Stark in Winterfell._

_Arya Stark of Winterfel_l".

Daenerys couldn't stop staring at the words. Finally, she spoke.

- "What was this Red Wedding?"

- "It was the vilest treachery, your Majesty," Ser Barristan Selmy said. "It happened a few months after Robert Baratheon's death," the old man continued. "Robb Stark had raised the armies of the North to free his Father, but after he was executed the Young Wolf wanted to march to Kings Landing to avenge him and take back his sisters, whom he though our hostages. In truth Lady Arya, a girl of one and ten, had disappeared, and only her sister Sansa was the hostage. Stark was supposed to marry a Frey girl, as it had been decided sooner for him and his men to cross the Twins. But he instead married another girl. Lord Frey accepted Lord Tully as Robb's replacement as sweet-son. The wedding was celebrated in front of all the Stark's vassals, of Robb Stark himself and his Lady Mother Catlyn Tully. But after the wedding the Freys and Roose Bolton, one of Stark's bannermen, betrayed the North. It was a bloodbath. Robb Stark and his mother died in the wedding room and Bolton, supported by Tywin Lannister, who had probably offered the Freys guaranty of a pardon too, became the new Protector of the North."

Daenerys nodded, stunned. It was such a vile treachery it was hart to imagine.

- "She wrote 'with my sword and… two hundred wolves', do you think it's just said in a manner of speaking?"

Her counselors frowned, obviously thinking about it, and Tyrion was the one to answer.

- "The Star children all had a direwolf, one of those giant wolves from the Lands Beyond the Wall. When Lord Stark went South to be Robert's Hand he brought his two daughters and their two she-wolves. On the way Arya's wolf bit Joffrey, he complained that they were dangerous. Lady Sansa's wolf was killed but Arya had expected it and released hers in the forest. I wasn't there at the time but my brother told me, I remember because later strange rumors about a giant pack of wolves composed of more than two hundred of them and lead by a giant wolf arrived to Kings Landing. At the time I had wondered if it could be linked. Imagining that Lady Arya found her she wolf, it's quite probable that she is leading an army of two hundred wolves just as you have three dragons, Majesty."

Daenerys nodded, trying to imagine what a an army of two hundred wolves could look like. Tyrion continued to speak.

- "If the Riverlands do help us it will divide my sister's forces by two and our chance will be multiplied."

- "Do you think any of this is possible?" Daenerys asked Tyrion, since he was the one who had known the Stark girl best.

- "I didn't have much contact with Arya Stark, Majesty," the dwarf answered, thinking. "But if one of the Starks had wolfblood in their veins, it was her. I'm not sure what she did after fleeing Kings Landing, but here is what I know for a certainty. She killed more than one men before reaching ten name days, and one them was Sandor Clegane. My spies had just found her when it happened, I'm not sure what exactly went down after that. A street boy in Saltpans is the last one to have seen her, I think. She was starving and had no money. But she entered a ship going to Braavos, paying with some sort of iron coin and saying…"

The dwarf was interrupted by Daario Naharis.

- "Valar Morghulis," he said with laughing eyes. "My queen," the man continued, "I must counsel you to ally yourself with the Stark girl, because there is no doubt that she is the one who has written this letter."

- "How do you know what a girl does on the other side of the see?" Daenerys asked, wondering.

- "It is one thing all Braavosi know, Your Grace," the man answered. Then he stopped, blinked, and started to laugh, unable to stop himself as if he had become mad.

- "Can you tell me what is so funny?" Danny asked calmly, knowing he wouldn't laugh at her.

- "My Queen, I must first explain… Lannister, tell the Queen about the House of Black and White and the Faceless Men."

And Daario started laughing again. Tyrion didn't see why he had to explain such things but he was aware that it was no use arguing.

- "The Faceless Men are the best assassins in the world. They are the Many Faced God's disciples, the One Who Brings Death to All. Their name comes from the fact that they can change their visage at wish, but that is only one of their countless skills. If the client wants it they will create an accident so perfect that nobody will ever even suspect something happened. And if the client wishes a public execution they will kill their target while three thousand men are watching. If the Faceless Men accept a contract on your head, you are dead. Thankfully their prices are always just a bit over what you can afford, your own life, mountains of gold, the hand of your daughter for some provincial bastard."

Tyrion stopped, he didn't know any more than that on the subject. But by then Daario was calm again and he explained in turn.

- "When a Faceless Man sees potential in someone to become a Faceless Man they offer them an iron coin and leave them the choice of coming to Braavos to be taught. You only need to give the coin to any Braavosi and he will do whatever he can to help you and bring you to Braavos. When you give the coin you must say "Valar Morghulis." The Braavosi all know this, for helping a future Faceless Man can be extremely profitable. The order is very secret, but a month ago, rumors spoke of there being a disciple," Daario finished with a whisper as if someone would hear him and slit his throat where he was standing.

- "A disciple?" Daenerys asked, not understanding what that meant.

- "Normally, after certain stages in the teaching one cannot survive without loosing their identity. However, extremely rarely the Many Faced God chooses one disciple, meaning a man or woman who has all the training of a Faceless Man, all their skills, but is still a person. If you can survive the teachings, you have been chosen. It happened only three times in the last two thousand years."

- "What does it mean?" Tyrion asked.

- "The disciple is essentially a Faceless Man with free range and no ability to change his face."

- "Free range?" Daenerys asked.

- "It means that… how to explain? Normally the Many Faced God allows his servants to kill only those He chooses, and no other. No Faceless Man will kill for his own reasons, mainly because they stopped being people and don't have personal reasons for anything. A disciple, however… the ones the disciple decides to kill are automatically designed by the Many Faced God. The temple considers these cases as special and will never accept a contract on a disciple. If Arya Stark is the House of Black and White's disciple, don't be her enemy. If my sources are correct it has been a month since the disciple left Braavos. Arya Stark says she killed the Freys two weeks ago, which corresponds to a week of travel from Braavos to Westeros and another to the Twins. In two weeks she annihilated her enemies, and she had no men."

Danny blinked, shocked by all this. Just reading the letter had made her want to accept the Stark girl's allegiance. These new informations were only strengthening her decision. She didn't need an enemy such as Arya Stark if she could have her as an ally.

Of course, the young girl didn't clearly offer an alliance with her, but with her uncle Lord Tully. However, she had no men to offer and needed to go North to kill her House's traitors.

- "I will answer that I accept Lord Tully's allegiance," she said, and none of her counselors protested, which was almost a first.


	8. 7 The Lord of the Vale

**And here is chapter 7, short, too, I know. No worries, the one next week is longer !**

**Chapter 7: The Lord of the Vale**

- "I'm not sure it's a good idea, Robin. I fear that if you see her nephew before her the Lady…"

The young woman was interrupted by the Eyrie's Maester's arrival.

- "Begging your pardon, My Lady, My Lord," the old man said. "A letter has arrived for you," he added, holding out a letter towards the Lord of the Vale.

Robin Arryn had been a sickly child, overprotected by his mother and capricious. After his mother's death and that of his stepfather, a few months later, the child had seamed to plunge further and further into depression and sickness. However, in four years, he had grown up and become a strong boy of four and ten. He was serious, attentive, even though he lacked most Lord's passion for fighting and riding. He was a good enough swordsman, for his age, but simply preferred other things. The only reminders of his tormented childhood were the frequent colds he tended to get. He was clever and a fast learner, and already strict and taciturn, as his father Jon Arryn had been.

He took the letter and opened it.

_Lord Robin Arry, Protector of the Vale,_

_Cousin…_

Robin stopped reading suddenly.

- "It is a letter from your sister, My Lady," he said after checking the signature at the end of the letter.

- "From my sister? Arya is alive?"

Robin gave the letter to his cousin. She took it and inspected the writing, her eyes filling with tears.

- "It his her handwriting," she said simply.

Robin took her hand into his and squeezed it gently, trying to comfort her as she had comforted him so many times.

He knew Sansa had believed she was all alone, her whole family destroyed. And now she learned that her sister was alive. She started to read aloud.

- "_Lord Arryn, Protector of the Vale,_

_Cousin, I do not know the exact situation of the Vale, but I believe it is my duty to inform you of my actions. After fleeing Kings Landing I have exiled myself from Westeros. However I could never forget all the treacheries that led to my family's deaths. I can't forget the Freys and the Boltons, the Lannisters and the Greyjoys. My revenge may have taken four years, but it has finally started. I have killed all the Freys I could find at the Twins and freed our uncle Edmure and his wife and daughter. I have killed all the Freys I could find at Riverrun and soon our mothers' House will rule the Riverlands once more. I am now going North to kill all Boltons I can find there. Afterwards I intend to go south and make sure Cersei Lannister is finally punished for all her crimes._

_Before writing this letter I have sent another one to Daenerys Targaryen in the South. Lord Tully will swear his oath to her and take his troups South once his domain is peaceful. I believe you should do the same, Lord Arryn. History tells us that once a Targaryen comes to Westeros with three dragons the Lords opposing him die in fire and blood. And the Lannisters have never been allied to the Arryns anymore than to the Starks, and look at what they did to my family the second they sat on the Throne. Before I cut his head off he confessed that Cersei Lannister and her father had been behind the Frey's betrayal._

_Hoping to meet you one day,_

_Arya Stark_

_Ps: Pleas ignore this if you do not understand it. If Lady had been alive still she would understand why you lied that day, as I do now. It was not your fault._

There was silence for a moment, then Robin asked.

- "Do you know what thas last sentence mean?"

- "It's a code," Sansa said. "I don't know how Arya has learned that I am here, it might have been an educated guess on her part. If I hadn't been here you wouldn't have known it was for me, but it definitely proves that this is really Arya writing, and of her own accord."

- "I don't understand."

- "'Lady' was the name I had given my direwolf. She was executed on King Robert's orders because I lied and said Arya's wolf attacked Prince Joffrey." A tear ran down Sansa's cheek, but she kept going. "At the time I was betrothed to Prince Joffrey an could not betray him in front of half the court, even if it was with the truth. He had attacked Arya as she was playing with a friend, had tried to hurt her friend. But Arya beat him and then he attacked her in the back when she turned around to leave. Nymeria bit Joffrey to save Arya. After that Arya's friend was killed by Sandor Clegane, but she chased Nymeria away so she would not be hurt."

Robin nodded, thinking about the story, and then for some time about Arya's letter.

- "What do you think I should do, My Lady?" Robin asked. He might be clever, but he was still a boy of four and ten, not yet a man grown.

- "It is your decision," Sansa said firmly. "But, in your place, I would bow to the Mother of Dragons and send men from the Vale to the South West. Your men have stayed too long cooped up in your domain, Robin. If you don't, once Daenerys sits on the Iron Throne, she will bring her dragons here and your men will not protect you then. It is true that your father betrayed hers, but all of Lord Baelish's old spies say she is a forgiving Queen, kind and generous. With Uncle Edmure sending his own me, it is only a question of time until she wins. Well, except if you decided to send troops against the Riverlands, but…"

- "It is our mothers' land," finished Robin, and I couldn't do such a thing. Yes, I think you are right. Until now we could not have crossed the Riverlands without fighting them, and being stuck at the Twins for however long it took us to take it, if we could even take it. Maester Fern said Walder Frey had four thousand men in his castles. But how can Arya have taken it? With whose Army?"

- "I believe Arya capable of anything," Sansa answered after thinking for some time. "When we were children I believed she was stupid for wanting to learn to fight like a boy. But she was better at it than all my brothers at the same age, in truth, and… more violent, also. Not mad, not like Prince Joffrey, but… Before Joffrey's death, Lord Tyrion told me he had almost found Arya. When his spies lost her trace, she had just killed Sandor Clegane."

Robin didn't answer. Even in the Vale, far away from court, he had heart about the Clegane brothers.

When the second letter arrived, that same day, Robin immediately went to find Sansa and show it to her. It came from one of Baelish's old spies in Riverrun. After the man's death he had taken them for himself. He assumed this must have something to do with Arya, since she had mentioned taking the city. He was not wrong.

"_My Lord, this night Riverrun had been taken back and the Freys are all dead. Lady Stark, Arya, is alive. The people have started to call her The Lady of Wolves. Yesterday night one of the city bridges malfunctioned and didn't rise. It is probable, seeing what has happened since, that this was a planned sabotage. The guards at the gates opened them and wolves entered the city by the hundreds. As if by magic they only attacked guards loyal to the Freys, not hurting any man fighting for the Tully. Leading them was Lady Stark and her giant Direwolf. I have seen her kill five men in as many minutes while her wolves tore apart her enemies. The fights have stopped three hours later and we can now see wolves eating corpses all around the city. Lady Arya then announced to the people that she had freed her uncle Lord Edmure Tully and killed all the Freys. Your uncle will apparently come back to Riverrun once the northern regions of the Riverlands are at peace. The people are celebrating, and some say Lady Stark was sent by the Seven to avenge the crimes against her family._

_Your humble servant_."

Sansa nodded.

- "If Daenerys Targaryen is a dragon," she said, "Arya Stark is a direwolf."

**I hope you liked it! Don't hesitate to leave a comment!**

**Ferz **


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